A Second Lease on Life
by NiniriAZ
Summary: Looking in from the outside, Ana d'Vir takes an irrevereant look at the X-men and Xavier's little cult of personality and seeks to cope with the canges after an accidental encountere with her long-lost little sister, Marie d'Ancanto (aka Rogue).
1. A Second Lease on Life: Chapter 1

A Second Lease on Life: Ch1  
  
Tram Tragedy in New Mexico (22 Dec 98)  
  
Albq. NM (AP)- The largest city in New Mexico is gripped in   
  
shock and grief tonight after one of two tram-cars on the Sandia   
  
Tramway, operated by the National Park Service, carrying 42   
  
people plunged into a chasm.   
  
There was only one survivor, who is reported to be in critical   
  
condition in the ICU at Presbetyrian Hospital tonight. The unnamed   
  
woman is in a coma according to the spokesman, who declined to give   
  
any further details, pending an official investigation.  
  
The main cable that the asymmetrically balanced cars travel on  
  
is nearly a foot thick, and has never broken before, though  
  
it has been replaced several times over the decades, since the   
  
Sandia Tram was opened in 1957.   
  
It is reputedly the world's longest tramway, at just over two   
  
and a half miles.  
  
The circumstances under which this tragedy occurred are  
  
still unclear, and investigators are not commenting. Though   
  
terrorism, in some form, is a possibility, due to the proximity  
  
to Kirtland Spaceport and the Sandia and Los Alamos National  
  
Research Labs.  
  
-------------------------------  
  
I woke up a day after that report was printed in newspapers all   
  
across the nation.   
  
I was the woman who survived.   
  
Goddess only knows how, though, and I had the worst migraine in   
  
living memory and felt like I'd been thrown off a horse not once,   
  
but a dozen times. I was so stiff I could barely move, but that   
  
didn't stop me.   
  
Coma, yeah, right.   
  
At least my personal effects, which'd been in my leather butt-pack,   
  
were in a plastic baggie in the drawer of the night stand... Keys.   
  
Altoids. Wallet. RPG dice. Jewelry. Swiss Army Knife.  
  
I put my hair in a tail, and helped myself to a nice, heavy velvet   
  
bathrobe that belonged to one of the other patients and a pair of   
  
sneakers from one floor down... And then I cut the plastic sensor   
  
bracelet off my wrist, and left it in a room in the psych ward, as   
  
I went "shopping" for something to wear.  
  
I eventually found a pair of jeans, a shirt and a jacket to wear,   
  
and walked out of Pres with no regrets, winding through the neighbor-  
  
hood,  
  
rather than take the direct route to my flat, just 4 blocks south.   
  
Besides, it was a beautiful day, and I wasn't in the mood to be cooped  
  
up inside. It'd snowed this morning, and with so few people out, the   
  
pristine whiteness actually held some appeal for me. My bones weren't   
  
hurting and it didn't seem that cold, so I decided to enjoy absolute   
  
quiet.  
  
I didn't notise anyone following me, though I did get a few odd looks   
  
as I walked through Roosevelt Park on my way home... Some of the kids  
  
muttered, but I didn't pay much attention, I was just glad to have come   
  
out of that tram accident alive!  
  
Everything seemed perfectly normal, and luckily Priscilla didn't even   
  
seem to notise me as I stalked past her office by the front gate.   
  
[I swear, that old woman complains about everything, from her hyster-  
  
ectomy, to the crazy old bat in 104 to the newlyweds that live upstairs  
  
from her...thumping around at all hours!]  
  
I trotted town the stairs, and down to 108, where I live, thinking   
  
about listening to some White Zombie as I opened the door and let  
  
myself in.  
  
A hot bath, some clean clothes... MY clothes, and food; though not   
  
necessAnaly in that order.   
  
I couldn't help but smile. I had thought I'd never see this humble   
  
hole in the wall again, but for once, I was glad to see insipid beige   
  
walls, and all my "reverse-goth" decor and my old computer sitting on   
  
the desk, waiting for me to log in and check email...  
  
(Well, let me explain "reverse-goth" first. "Goth" is all black and   
  
dark colours, by some strange twist of fate, everything in my room is   
  
white or light coloured, but is still in a very gothy style, unlike my   
  
closet which is filled with black velvet, black linen, black silk and   
  
black leather...)  
  
First things were first: I tossed my White Zombie CD into the stereo,   
  
and wandered off to run my bath. I grabbed my brush, and started to   
  
unknot my hair when I notised this ridiculous white stripe running   
  
down the middle of my hair...  
  
I must have been really scared to have that much of my hair go white   
  
overnight. But considering I'd nearly died, what else could I have   
  
expected, I asked myself, as I began to tug my brush through the unruly   
  
mass. I notised it was a bit longer than I normally wore my hair, but   
  
chalked that minor difference up to still being in shock over my near   
  
death experience.  
  
My bath was nearly full, so I ditched the clothes I'd borrowed and slid   
  
into the deliciously hot water, dumping in half a pound of epsom salts   
  
to help soak out the aches.... And half an hour or so later, I was   
  
feeling "humanoid again".   
  
Now, mind you, when I discovered that my jeans seemed a bit too loose,   
  
I wasn't about to complain. But it irritated me that my bra seemed too   
  
snug. How the hell did I wind up with all my other clothes being looser,   
  
and my damn bra being tighter? One of those mysteries of life, I supposed.  
  
Food was next on my agenda, though I followed my normal habit of signing   
  
online while waiting for the leftovers to warm up. There were several ICQ's   
  
from friends and more emails cluttering up my Hotmail account. I guess they'd  
  
heard about the Tram, too....  
  
Well, I was half way into dinner and reading through my prodigious amount   
  
of PBeM posts when somebody was knocking on the door...  
  
Nobody knocks on my door, unless it's Louis, Gost or the manager.  
  
I'm never one to throw open the door until I know who's out there, so   
  
I grabbed my roomie's cellphone and dialed my voicemail. It took me only a   
  
moment to figure out that there were no messages, so it had to be Priscilla.   
  
I wasn't in the mood to deal with her, so I ignored it.  
  
I sat back down at my computer and continued talking to my friend Donna from   
  
Connecticut, though I had a my favourite sword sitting beside me... I got   
  
suspicious when the knocking stopped, and I heard a key slide into the lock   
  
over the White Zombie. I didn't hear Priscilla's nasal voice hollering that   
  
she was coming in, so I told Donna what was up...pulled up 911 on the cell-  
  
phone, ready to dial with one hand and ready to skewer who ever   
  
was invading my privacy with the other.  
  
I somehow knew that somebody was picking the lock on my door, and that   
  
larceny wasn't on their mind... Now I was mad.  
  
I slid my back up to the wall, so they couldn't see me if they entered my   
  
room, tightening my grip on the sword, when I heard their voices...  
  
A strong Southern drawl was the first, "Dere ya go..."  
  
A woman's voice, with a cultured, New England accent came next,  
  
"Thank you... I hate doing this, but we don't know what shape she's in..."  
  
Then an almost "whine" from an impatient man, who sounded too uptight for   
  
his own good, "Well, she's been gone for months... with no explanations.   
  
Darn good thing Cerebro can track her."  
  
I "felt" their progress in the back of my head, and waited.. The cell  
  
phone wasn't' going to do any good if they could track somebody with   
  
some sort of electronic device, so I set it aside, as I heard the woman   
  
again: "Let me go first... She's not going to be happy to see either   
  
of you guys."  
  
The woman's presence grew closer, and rounded the corner into my room,   
  
I moved faster than I thought possible... I hit her in the stomach with   
  
the flat of the blade, knocking the wind out of her. That was well and   
  
good, but I'd not reckoned that I'd wind up with Jean Grey-Summers in   
  
my flat. She must have thought I was somebody else.  
  
First thing I did was kick the smoker outside. I hate the smell of  
  
the stuff. It makes me want to throw up. I don't care if the smoker's  
  
the most gorgeous thing this side of Adonis, it's a real turnoff.  
  
The whiney guy turns out to be the redhead's husband. A real geek  
  
who wears red shades and really lame clothes, and has a lamer attitude.  
  
I don't know what she sees in him...  
  
The whiney guy found himself kicked out too, after 2 minutes of listening   
  
to him, I was ready to skewer him. But the redhead persuaded me not to...   
  
She purposefully didn't touch me, which was cool, because I'm a psychic,   
  
and I don't like being touched by strangers. But it was obvious she wanted   
  
to talk, so I parked her on that awful pink chair of mine, while I took   
  
up a perch on my bed, the sword resting across my lap.  
  
"Okay. This is my home, and I'm entitled to ask the questions." I began,   
  
giving her my best evil look, "Who the hell are ye people to be breaking   
  
into my flat?"  
  
"I'm Jean Grey-Summers, and we tracked you here with Cerebro" she stated,   
  
as though I was supposed to know what that meant, "A colleague has been   
  
missing for several months, and when the authorities released their sketch   
  
of "Jane Doe", who was the sole survivor of the accident, we were contacted   
  
by friends in law enforcement who recognised you..."  
  
"Me? I've never seen yer people in my life," I interrupted, feeling  
  
like there was more to her brief explanation than she was willing to  
  
give me, "And why should I trust ye at all? Ye come barging in  
  
here, with out any warning, and ye expect me to trust ye??"  
  
"Rogue, whom you so closely resemble," she continued, "was once  
  
a metahuman terrorist, who may still be wanted in some states. This  
  
could pose a problem to your safety..."  
  
Then her ideas really got crazy, "... not to mention, that we don't   
  
know who is responsible for the Tram accident. You're possibly the  
  
only witness to the truth. We can guarantee your safety and anonymity  
  
in this case. I also have reason to believe that something even more  
  
unusual may have happened here, Ms.... I don't recall your name"  
  
"Lady Anastasia," I told her, not willing to give her my surname.  
  
"...Rogue had the peculiar ability to absorb the psyche and powers  
  
of anyone she made skin-to-skin contact with." she proposed, "What  
  
if an 'ordinary' woman tried to save her, not knowing about her  
  
'handicap' as it were?"  
  
She gave it a moment for that to sink in, "So yer saying that Rogue  
  
absorbed "me"? That I'm now living in somebody else's body? And that  
  
my body died?"  
  
I was more than surprised, I was shocked. And that's not an easy thing   
  
to do....   
  
Even more so that I'd cheated death. I started laughing, and couldn't   
  
stop. The notion was so absurd... granted I'd concocted stuff like   
  
that for my RPGs, but that didn't happen in real life... did it?  
  
In the insuing hour, Jean managed to persuade me to return to New   
  
York with her...   
  
I know I was driving her crazy, because I kept "listening" to White   
  
Zombie, Metallica and Type O Negative in the back of my head... not  
  
exactly the kinda stuff to make a telepath comfortable--and you know  
  
what? It was fun watching her sit there and squirm!  
  
She wasn't the only psi-talent in the room, either!  
  
I did a little persuading of my own: my computer, my personal gear   
  
and my sewing machine and "stuff" was coming with me. I wasn't about   
  
to give up my entire life.... even if I was given a second lease. 


	2. A Second Lease on Life: Chapter 2

A Second Lease on Life Ch. 2  
  
29 Dec   
  
It's been a week since my 'accident' on the Sandia Tram, and that   
  
was when I decided to set up a diary programme on my computer,  
  
and start writing in it....  
  
So I guess it's time for me to jot down my impressions of New York,  
  
the Xavier Institute and the people who live here; not to mention   
  
the things I've been up to since I've been here.  
  
So, I'll begin with the day I arrived....  
  
The trip from ABQ to NY was pretty tense. We went out to the West   
  
Mesa, on the other side of the six volcanoes that are on the West   
  
Side of town, to this little "airport" that very few people are   
  
actually aware of....   
  
Of course I know it's out there, because I often drove up to the   
  
volcanoes, which are part of a state park, and hiked around or   
  
just went up into one of the old cones to sit and mediate.....  
  
That Cajun was pretty quiet, just kept stAnang at me from the   
  
back seat. And I could tell he was thinking about the woman who   
  
he thought he knew....Jean and Scott were busy thinking at each   
  
other. I could pickup threads of thought, not real "words" per se,   
  
but scraps of concepts and images. Kinda like when you can hear   
  
someone whispering about you, but you can't quite make out what   
  
they're saying. It was the emotions that started giving me  
  
a headache....  
  
Remy was eating himself up with guilt over things not said to   
  
"Rogue", and things he'd done and not done. I almost felt sorry   
  
for him, but didn't let myself fall into that groove, because   
  
only he could get his life together.... he wasn't my problem.  
  
I kept playing Metallica in the back of my head, and finally   
  
dug out my CDs and Discman, to listen to the real thing... The   
  
Unforgiven suited my mood and helped shut him out... And it kept   
  
Jean fidgeting, which contented me, because it kept her out of   
  
my head...I've never been around that many other psychics, and   
  
considering I'm self-taught, I don't care what she thinks!  
  
And Scott, who didn't bother to get directions, got thoroughly   
  
lost down Paseo del Norte. I finally told him to pull over and   
  
physically removed him from the drivers seat after listening to  
  
him whine for an hour about it "being right around the next   
  
left"....  
  
My Rammstein CD went into the stereo in the rental Land Rover,   
  
and I cranked up the volume... more to make him cringe than   
  
anything else.... I was in one of my manicly "UP" moods, and   
  
nothing was going to bring me down as I took the overland route   
  
in the Petroglyphs National Monument.  
  
Besides, there's something about listening to Du Hast at top   
  
volume that does something for me... I was alive, and damn   
  
it, no stuffy "kids" were going to stop me from enjoying it.  
  
And the best part, it only took us about 15 minutes to get to   
  
that little out of the way airport....  
  
I was expecting a small, chartered turboprop, but no.... they   
  
had something that belonged either down at Roswell or over at   
  
Area 51 from the look of it.... because it was big, black and   
  
reminded me a bit of a SR-71.   
  
So I was going to fly in a UFO?   
  
Fortunately, Jean took my evil "be careful with my stuff" look  
  
seriously as she floated it up the ramp into the cargo area,   
  
though I'm not sure why she seemed so worried...her shielding   
  
was too strong for me to sneak past, but she wasn't doing such   
  
a good job of hiding her emotional state!  
  
Normally, it'd take 6-7 hours to reach NYC by plane, but this   
  
'bird' made the trip in a couple of hours, not that the short   
  
side bothered me. I personally hate airplanes, because I'm   
  
claustrophobic...  
  
There's something about the idea of being confined in a thin   
  
metal tube with tons of highly flamable petrol hurtling   
  
through the athmosphere at insane speeds that makes me right   
  
buggy... but, thankfeully the ride was over quickly!  
  
Anyway.... When we got there, Jean promised to discretely place  
  
my things in a room for me to set up as I saw fit, which I thanked  
  
her for and made my way to the house with Remy and Scott.  
  
I "saw" through both men's minds where I needed to go, so I   
  
pushed past them, as is my usual M.O. when I'm in an hurry   
  
and don't feel like being slowed up by the people around me...  
  
I still had my Discman playing heavy metal, and my backpack   
  
slung over my shoulder as I jogged down the tunnel to toward   
  
the main building I sensed over head. When I emerged in a   
  
sitting room, several people were there, watching television,   
  
and eating dinner...  
  
I stopped for a moment and looked at them: a gorgeous Arabic   
  
woman with white hair and blue eyes, a pretty Asian woman who   
  
had black hair and eyes, a guy sitting next to her, with blue   
  
skin; several "normal" looking people, a woman with green hair   
  
and eyes, a cyber and two very different looking guys who were   
  
both covered in blue fur.... and this gorgeous guy with the   
  
face of a 20 yr. old, and the eyes of someone much older.   
  
I don't know how long I stared into those eyes, but it seemed   
  
like forever. They were the colour of the New Mexico sky, in   
  
the middle of summer.... and what I saw there was a lifetime   
  
of pain the he couldn't remember. I know it's weird, but I   
  
judge people by their eyes and what I "see" there.... it's   
  
kinda psychic thing. I just know by looking into someone's   
  
eyes.  
  
I'm not sure what he saw in my eyes, but it was enough to make   
  
him smile, and I got the distinct impression I'd be seeing more   
  
of him later... but we were interrupted with a chorus of "Rogue...  
  
you're back.... Are you okay? Did you have a good trip, Rogue?   
  
WOW, you changed your look...."  
  
I waved them off as they crowded around me... that's something   
  
I hate. One of those "things" that makes me claustrophobic...   
  
I think the white haired woman got the clue by the look on my   
  
face, and I later found out that she shared my irrational fears  
  
of small spaces... of being trapped....   
  
"Give her some space, everyone" she said, in a voice like butter-  
  
scotch, "We've all been worried, Rogue..."  
  
I looked at her and shrugged, speaking in my clipped, almost-British  
  
accent, "I'm fine... I think Ol' Cueball wants to see me for some   
  
bloody reason...."  
  
No one had anything to say in response to that, until the indigo   
  
coloured "demon" 'bamphed' in front of me... with a handful of   
  
roses, and a swashbuckling air about him.   
  
I couldn't help but smile... I had never seen anyone who looked   
  
quite this unusual, but I recognised a true renaissance gentleman   
  
when I saw one, never mind the smell of sulfur!  
  
"Merci, Monsieur Azure...." I replied, giving my limited knowledge   
  
of French a work out, while everyone else kept gaping at me,   
  
"Don't any of ye speak English? Or has the proverbial cat got   
  
yer tongues?"  
  
It was the other blue fellow who spoke at last, "My dear Rogue,   
  
I do not think they are accustomed to heAnang the Queen's Good   
  
English cross your lovely lips before... and might I add,   
  
previously, your exclamations were enunciated with the smooth   
  
sweetness of boysenberry syrup, to wit, it is quite a change."  
  
I laughed, with him, "I assure ye, I have never spoken otherwise,   
  
Monsieur Azure Gran. I am as true blue Brit as ye can bloody well  
  
get, nor am I 'un Madame Rogue', I am much more particular in my   
  
choices of paramours than that. Je suis Madame Anastasia d'Vir."  
  
The others didn't get the joke, but the "other" blue fellow found   
  
it more than suitably amusing, and handed me a Guinness, which I   
  
popped open with a promise to join him immediately after my "inter-  
  
view" with Ol' Cueball. Apparently he wanted to run some medical   
  
scans on me, or something like that...  
  
He showed me the way around through the foyer past the grand   
  
staircase to the study, which had doors right next to the   
  
library. I made a mental note to see the library after Cueball   
  
and Sickbay....  
  
The oak doors slid open like 10 Foreword on the Enterprise D,   
  
which I found rather intriguing for a house of this age... The   
  
marble chessboard parquetry on the foyer, everything spoke of   
  
"old money" as far as my experience went.. Probably dating from   
  
pre-War of 1812, if I didn't miss my guess...  
  
The study, however was a contrast in itself, equipped with bleeding   
  
edge technology, that even I'd not seen in my work as a help desk   
  
rep for a major computer company.   
  
Everything in here was glass and wrought iron in a strange,   
  
I'd even say "alien", motif; with dark colours of charcoal   
  
grey, burgundy and hunter green predominating. (So, I'm also   
  
a history nut, I notise these things..)  
  
Behind this extremely ergonomic desk, that I'd kill to have for   
  
my own use, was this stuffy looking bald guy, weAnang a ultra   
  
conservative navy blue suit with an "old school" tie, and gold   
  
cloisonne cufflinks from what I guess must have been his alma   
  
mater. He didn't look like he even had a sense of humour....  
  
The blue guy smiled encouragingly at me, "He doesn't bite,   
  
really...."  
  
I stifled down a smirk, "Are you sure? Jesse Helms would look   
  
like a bleeding heart liberal around this guy..."  
  
It was then I felt a "clinical" presence around the edges of   
  
my mind, like someone looking at you when you're in the ER,   
  
trying to do triage on you...   
  
I looked up with "one of those looks" shot in the man's direction   
  
and projected my thoughts as concisely and clearly as possible,   
  
with a blast Rammstein's Du Hast as the under current, [Stay.   
  
Out. Of. My. Head.]  
  
His eyes widened in shock at my projection, and I must have been   
  
"speaking" pretty loud, judging from the way he winced. He spoke   
  
aloud, as though I'd not 'thought outloud' at him, "Thank you,   
  
Hank, that will be all. Please have a seat, Rogue."  
  
I pulled up a chair, and sat across it backwards and just looked   
  
at him. He wanted to 'mindspeak'? Well, it seemed my mindspeak   
  
unnerved him at this point, so I'd give him a piece of my mind.  
  
[Thanks.] I projected carefully, all while keeping my music run-  
  
ning just under the surface. I didn't let him 'hear' anything   
  
past my public-mind, [Now, let's get a few things straight. Ye   
  
don't try to pry into my head, because I'll know yer trying. Next.   
  
I'm not Rogue. I'm Anastasia. Ms. Grey thought it might be prudent   
  
for me to stay with you for a while, until that Tram accident   
  
investigation blows over...]  
  
[.... Yes, we consulted on this matter while you were enroute,]   
  
Cueball interjected, [She mentioned you were...very independent  
  
..and very...strong willed.]  
  
I laughed, thinking to myself, that that was the understatement   
  
of the century, [Well, I do have a mind of my own, and I'm per-  
  
fectly capable of exercising all 180 of my IQ points. I may not   
  
be very good with math or science, but not all genius can be   
  
evaluated that way....]  
  
[....How....] he sputtered, wondering how I, who wasn't a partic-  
  
ularly powerful or well-trained psychic could finish his sentence   
  
for him, [....did you know?]  
  
[Look, I'm not a world class telepath or anything,] I informed him,  
  
[I've got "the Sight", and I know things before they're going to   
  
happen, among other things... Let's cut to the chase: Yer going   
  
to ask me to stay here, because I look like somebody who was a   
  
student here, and I'm going to say sure... and that since this is   
  
a school, I want to finish college. Yer going to ask me what I   
  
want to study, and I'm telling ye graphic arts and computer   
  
science.]  
  
The bald man just looked at me, his eyes speculating on me, as   
  
I kept up my end of the staredown, then he seemed to refocus   
  
on me, [Very well...Anastasia. You certainly seem to have the  
  
sort of spirit and resilience that Rogue never had. I would   
  
still like to know what occurred in that accident. I would   
  
like to discuss it with you at a later date, if that would   
  
be acceptable?]  
  
I nodded, [Sure. we'll talk. Right now, I've got a Guinness and   
  
a date with the big blue guy in sick bay... Hank ye called him?   
  
Righto. See ye later..Cueball.]  
  
I stuck a hand out to shake on it, and he seemed initially reluctant   
  
to seal the bargain, but eventually gave in. His hand was cold   
  
and dry, just as I'd expected, but that brief contact gave me a   
  
greater insight into the man....   
  
And it gave me some thinking to do. 


	3. A Second Lease on Life: Chapter 3

A Second Lease on Life Ch 3  
  
Dec 30  
  
Well, I spent the last 2.5 hours in Sickbay with a completely   
  
different Dr. McCoy, even though it sure looked like something   
  
out of Star Trek. I think he didn't mind being called "Bones",  
  
either...  
  
He determined that somehow, me, Lady Anastasia wound up in the   
  
body of his erstwhile teammate, Rogue. He explained to me   
  
about her power absorption ability that had run uncontrolled   
  
most of her life, and how it had apparently "copied" me into   
  
her body.... and a number of other abilities I'd inherited.  
  
He began with suggesting a workout routine to get me used to   
  
my radically different physical capabilities super strength,   
  
invulnerability, and when he told me I could fly I have to   
  
admit, I was elated...I'd always wondered what it'd be like   
  
to be able to soar through the violent beauty of a thunderstorm.  
  
Then he took me into another room, where there was a comfort-  
  
able chair and a "helmet', which he explained was a highly   
  
advanced MRI type scanner, with banks of computers surround-  
  
ing the perimeter of the room.  
  
I took a seat, and let him adjust the helmet over my head before   
  
he began a series of neurological 'scanalysis'. He'd told me   
  
that this was to help determine the nature of the powers I brought   
  
with me... which we later determined to be racially psionic in   
  
nature.. and far stronger than I'd  
  
ever imagined!   
  
No wonder I'd had migraines for years...and he promised further   
  
analysis to see if there was still a chance of them recurring..  
  
or if further training could aleviate that!  
  
But the nagging question that remained was "What happened to Rogue?"   
  
It was something I couldn't answer, and probably wouldn't be able   
  
to for a long time.   
  
But he spent some time talking to me, and reassuring me, that   
  
he would do what he could to help me adapt.   
  
That made me feel better. I had one person I could call a friend   
  
in this house of mystery, and he promised to properly introduce   
  
me to the others a few at a time to make things a little easier.  
  
We then went up stairs, and he proceeded to make good on his promise,  
  
and I made up my mind to record my first impressions of everyone here,  
  
in my journal.  
  
I've already decided that Scott is an uptight whiner, and far   
  
to serious for his own good. If he can't be in control, he's a   
  
real jerk. I don't care much for him... And Jean, though likable,   
  
is too nice. There's something dark inside her that she won't   
  
deal with, and she over compensates by being too nice, and a real  
  
nosy busybody type.... Gambit: real slick, lady's man; but I don't   
  
quite trust him. Guy's gorgeous, but he smokes and that's a definite   
  
turnoff.  
  
Who else did I meet to day that merits mention here?  
  
"Bones" is really cool, kinda odd looking, but fun to be around.   
  
The other blue guy, Kurt is interesting, reminds me of SCA guys   
  
I've known, and Joseph is.... not only beautiful, there's something   
  
very strange going on with him. He's so sad. Maybe I can pry him   
  
out of his shell a bit? My gut says he needs someone to talk to....   
  
and something tells me there's more than white hair and blue   
  
eyes in common between him and Ororo.  
  
There are others I met briefly, but didn't get the names of, but  
  
I'll meet them in the morning, Bones told me.  
  
Now it's time to go see my room.  
  
Jean promised me a room with it's own bathroom, and it looks like   
  
she knew where to stick me: corner room, with lots of windows,   
  
but the namecard in the doorslot says "Rogue" in fancy calligraphy  
  
... Oh well.  
  
I found my computer placed on a desk that is still dusty, like it   
  
just came out of storage, and my black seabag propped up next to   
  
the closet, with several packs of those plastic tubular hangers,   
  
and then I turn my attention to the rest of the room.... There's   
  
WAAAYY too much gingham, lace and eyelet around here for my tastes  
  
... and it reeked of Chantilly, a perfume I happen to abhor.  
  
I decided the room was getting aired and changed out before I   
  
took up residence... It didn't take very long to strip the bed   
  
of it's frou-frous and to remove the previous occupant's touches.   
  
And thankful for the French doors and a balcony, I tied the whole   
  
mess up in the bedspread and ran it off to the dumpster...   
  
[Good riddance....] I thought to myself, though I had packed   
  
the horrible knick-knacks into a box to go into storage, the   
  
bed linens and curtains were hopeless....  
  
It took almost half a smudge stick of sage and lavender before   
  
that room felt "right" to me. I didn't mind the Victorian   
  
furniture, but it took me a while to track down some civilized   
  
linens in storage... but being a night owl, I was managing fine.   
  
And though I had tried stretching and climbing to hang some   
  
gorgeous dark blue velvet curtains I'd found... I had looked   
  
down to find that I'd actually levitated in my efforts to   
  
reach the curtain rods!  
  
And wouldn't you know, just like a cat, I'm great at ascending   
  
to heights, but horrible at coming back down... So I settled   
  
for "lassoing" one of the posts on the four-poster bed with   
  
drapery cord, and "pulled" myself over it, and then relaxed   
  
and just "dropped" with a sigh of relief... Of course the   
  
bedsprings squeaked horribly.... and it was then that I heard   
  
a gentle tap on "my" door.  
  
I was scrambling off the bed, with a bit more squeaking, when   
  
a pretty brown haired-brown eyed girl came walking through   
  
my door--without opening it. I got the sense she was pretty   
  
smart, too from the way she eyed my jury-rigged PC-clone in   
  
such a knowing way.... and when she offered to help me settle   
  
in, starting with my computer. She had an Ethernet card in   
  
hand and a toolkit in the other. And with her personality, I   
  
didn't have to do much talking.  
  
From her I learned a great deal of relevant gossip about the   
  
Xavier Institute and other tidbits, meanwhile, I set to digging   
  
through the dresser of my 'predecessor' to find room for my   
  
own clothes...  
  
Needless to say, I was rather astonished at some of he...  
  
provocative... lingerie I discovered there, and quickly tossed   
  
it in a laundry basket. Almost nothing there was suited to my  
  
taste, which runs to basic black, very simple, and no lace. So   
  
that was all "out" real quick, I'd have to settle for a tight   
  
brassiere for a few more days, but now I knew why: 34B was   
  
never meant to accomodate 36D!  
  
There were some useful things though: lots of comfy looking   
  
workout gear, some sheer black body stockings and some gorgeous   
  
opera gloves--heck there were gloves of all kinds, some of   
  
which went into the basket with the Frederick's leftovers...   
  
but if it was black, or a dark jewel colour, I kept it!  
  
But I'd have to say the worst shock was in the closet...  
  
I burst out laughing, almost hysterically after a few minutes.   
  
In all my life, I couldn't believe some of what I was seeing,   
  
(and as a costumer I've seen a lot...)   
  
Tattered cutoffs, gingham croptops, more Frederick's sleaze-  
  
ware (tm), and typical me, I didn't hide my disdain, "Crikey,   
  
what is this? Daisy Duke's a bleeding mutant??? I don't beeleeve   
  
this! Kate, can you help me with this crap? I'll be damned if   
  
I'll be caught dead in Daisy Duke slut-wear..."  
  
I then notised that she was holding her sides, trying not to   
  
hurt herself laughing at the look of sheer disgust on my face   
  
as I began practically teAnang stuff out of the closet...   
  
There was a mountain of things that were going to the "give   
  
away" pile, and fewer things going into the "possibly salvage-  
  
able" pile, and another pile that I'd labeled "hopeless"...  
  
Strangely enough, it took less than all night to clean out the   
  
closet and get the entire room set up more to my liking. 


	4. A Second Lease on Life: Chapter 4

Dec 31  
  
I woke up this morning, feeling rather disoriented.  
  
It took me a few minutes to realize that I was in my "new"   
  
room, clear across the country from where I'd awakened the   
  
day before...  
  
I also knew it was New Year's Eve.   
  
I got up, and padded into the bathroom, and decided that I was   
  
going to make a trip to Bath & Body Works over at the mall in   
  
Salem Center. Peaches 'n Cream wasn't my idea of a good smel-  
  
ling bath.  
  
I dug out my favourite amber and sandalwood bath goodies, my   
  
makeup and a few other odds and ends that I stored in the   
  
armoire.   
  
A hot tub of water helped ease more of the soreness out of my  
  
muscles, letting me feel "humanoid" again. I washed my hair,   
  
and debated what to do about that annoying white stripe.   
  
I wound my hair up, and secured it with a pair of silver hair   
  
sticks, decided against makeup, and pulled on a loose black   
  
velvet shirt, jeans and combat boots before heading downstairs   
  
to grab breakfast... I overheard someone mentioning a 'holodeck'   
  
in the basement.  
  
I knew by now, that there was a "Star Trek" style computer in   
  
the mansion. I decided to ask it where the 'holodeck' was, and   
  
immediately received instructions on where to find it...  
  
It didn't take me long to make my way to this technological   
  
wonder, and then asked it to run a custom programme...   
  
Viola!! No more silly white stripe!  
  
Later that morning...  
  
I emerged a couple of hours later, with a satisfied smile on   
  
my face. It was nearly lunchtime, and it was time to face the   
  
others...   
  
Yes, I was nervous.   
  
Ororo, and the others were waiting to use the 'holodeck' for   
  
some sort of training exercise. They were dressed in those   
  
outlandish blue and yellow costumes, in varying styles.   
  
When they'd seen me that morning, I'd had that ridiculous white   
  
stripe running down the middle of my head, and now, everything   
  
was a lovely auburn, with nary a strand of white to be seen...  
  
Remy stared at me, "Rogue??"  
  
I'd glared at him, [The name's Anastasia. Lady Anastasia to you,   
  
Slick.]  
  
I don't know why I fell into mindspeak like it was second   
  
nature, but I did. Something about it just felt more 'natural'.   
  
But I couldn't believe that a batch of 'super heroes' were   
  
dressed in the worst "oh, shoot me now" outfits I'd ever seen.   
  
Not only that, they were worse than tasteless, and I just   
  
couldn't keep my mouth shut...  
  
[What gives?] I had 'said', giving them all a withering look,   
  
[Ye lot so eager to be shot at?]  
  
Good ol' Scotty had stood there like a stump while Logan and   
  
the others chuckled after a moment. He just didn't get the   
  
joke, "I don't understand where your levity is called for,   
  
Ro... Anastasia."  
  
[Look in the mirror, hotshot,] I continued, "Computer. Create   
  
wall mirror: 8'x15'."  
  
[Take a look at yerselves...] I told them as I pushed them into   
  
the holodeck, going into costumer-mode, Yer practically weAnang   
  
neon signs that say 'shoot me'. Blue and yellow? Come on!!! And   
  
big "X" logos? Spells 'target' to me... The only people I see   
  
around here with taste are Storm, though those logo's gotta go,   
  
and maybe Kwannon and Lorna, they've got the good sense to wear   
  
actual armor...]  
  
I was just starting my tirade when Logan put a hand on my   
  
shoulder, "Calm down, darlin'. You got a point. And while   
  
yer at it, why don't you share yer ideas?"  
  
Kate and Jubilee looked excited...while Scott, Remy, and Warren   
  
looked worried. I couldn't resist giving them my trademarked   
  
"evil grin".   
  
Lunchtime...  
  
I had made my suggestions for new, improved outfits. Armor   
  
protection for those with no innate defenses such as Jean,   
  
Ororo and Amanda, and costumes that didn't rip or tear for   
  
Warren or Logan, or something that was immune to ice/cold   
  
for Bobby, unstable molecules for Kitty, that would phase   
  
with her, for example.  
  
I'm pretty proud of my idears... I guess I'll go ahead and make   
  
a note of what I cooked up. But first let me tell you what I   
  
created to wear, since Kitty and Ororo insisted that whether   
  
or not I was still "Rogue", I was still a going to have to   
  
work out in the Holodeck.  
  
I couldn't argue with that logic, not the fact that I had no   
  
idea how to use the powers I'd inherited with this body...  
  
Anyway, I would up with pieces-parts of Storm's old costumes,   
  
the strapless jumpsuit and belts from her punk era, the high   
  
boots from her first costume, Longshot's "leather jacket" from   
  
his Australia days, and shoulder high gloves and silvery bracers.  
  
I decided to top it off with the black domino mask from the old   
  
Ms Marvel outfit I'd found in the back of Rogue's closet.   
  
The outfit was all unstable molecules, armored, almost all black,   
  
and plenty of pockets and a utility belt for 'stuff'. Perfectly   
  
suited to me.   
  
Now all I had to do was learn to fly.  
  
And get used to being invulnerable and juggle Ford Explorers...  
  
I managed to get through their impromptu training session, with   
  
a minimum of fuss. I didn't bother to try flying, but stayed on   
  
the ground, fending off different groups of the X-men so Hank   
  
could "watch" me on that "Cerebra" dingus of Cueball's.  
  
My main strategy was to dodge the energy blasts, and I knew the   
  
psychics couldn't read me, because the Professor couldn't, and   
  
then to physically tackle those who got close enough to me...   
  
What I had on my side, was my elusive Sight-gift. Knowing when   
  
and where the attacks were coming from, and what they would be;  
  
but what they had on their side were vAnaety, experience and   
  
numbers on their side...  
  
But I had the ingenuity of someone who's never played by the   
  
rules, and the ability to absorb powers it seemed...and because   
  
I understand mind powers the best, I started with Phoenix....  
  
She literally fell into my grasp when I tossed a nice, round   
  
rock and hit her in the temple at just the right time. I   
  
brushed my hand against her cheek...for some reason, physical   
  
contact has always made mindlinking easier for me.. gaining   
  
the insight via that mindlink I temporAnaly established with   
  
her and my telepathy to turn their worlds upside down...that   
  
was in conjunction with my Sight-gift, knowing somehow what it   
  
took to stop each and every one of them.  
  
In the minutes I was linked to Jean, I learned a great deal   
  
about my own mental abilities, things that would probably   
  
take me weeks, if not months to fully utilize the techniques.   
  
But practice them, I would!  
  
I looked up, then, to see the Professor in the control booth,   
  
a look of consternation on his face, though Hank's look was   
  
one of satisfaction...  
  
Apparently, I'd done well on my first "test"...in "Bones"   
  
book, anyway.  
  
I'm still a fencer and fairly decent martial artist at heart,   
  
and I don't think they were expecting that from someone   
  
they knew as a brawler... 


	5. A Second Lease on Life: Chapter 5

31 December, late afternoon  
  
I don't know if I'm still retaining some of Jean's knowhow,   
  
or what's 'wrong', but since our workout this morning, I've   
  
been more "aware" psychicly. I guess linking to that level   
  
of telepathy might have served as a psychic kickstart, mixing   
  
up with with what I've taught myself?  
  
Or perhaps I'm just subconsciously starting to use what I   
  
'learned' from her. Either way, Ol' Cueball was surprised   
  
that I didn't "absorb" her personality...and from what I now   
  
know about my 'new' powers, so am I...but another scan from   
  
Bones indicates that the primary power they think I should   
  
still be saddled with has burned out.. I'm "here" and I'm stuck  
  
in a body that is half-alien-half-human or something like that!  
  
(By the way, "Bones" is my nickname for Dr. Hank McCoy)  
  
So, now, Chuck want's me to work with a couple of other telepaths,   
  
since I've shared so much of Jean's psi-knowledge. I'm not sure   
  
what to think of the people he wants me to work with, though.  
  
Liz Braddock seems to possess something similar to my rather   
  
ill-defined Sight-gift, but she's pretty aloof and from what   
  
Kitty tells me, possessed of a ruthless streak. At least she's   
  
got the good taste of British Anastocracy, and wears stuff that   
  
doesn't clash with her naturally purple hair. I don't know her   
  
well enough to say much more... but I think I'm going to like   
  
her. She's a friend of several of the members here, and has   
  
been been here since a little accident caused her to gain some   
  
interestingmystical powers in addition to her innate Sight-gift   
  
and telepathy.  
  
And speaking of taste, Emma Frost doesn't seem to have much.   
  
She's dresses like a dominatrix in reverse. EVERY thing is white!   
  
At least she buys quality stuff. Sheesh. She's even more ruthless   
  
than Liz, and what I now know about her lends more credence to   
  
the abundant rumours concerning her reputation as a corporate   
  
tycoon...  
  
She doesn't see why she should waste her time working with such   
  
an "insignificant" psi-talent such as my self. Well, I think a   
  
few carefully placed comments about some stocks on Wall Street  
  
convinced her that reliable precog native abilities, though very   
  
short range, aren't anything to sneeze at. Not that I'm looking   
  
foreword to working with her...or she with me.  
  
The one that really unnerves me though is Charles's daughter   
  
from his first marriage. Heather is as bald as he is, but totally  
  
the opposite. I think her arrogance could sustain the entire WWF   
  
sometimes. I thank the Bright Lady that I've got this hellacious   
  
set of psiscreens that came with this body, else she'd be snooping   
  
everywhere she's not welcome. I'm NOT taking lessons from her, that  
  
much I already convinced Xavier of...  
  
As far as other "lessons" goes, I'm not looking forward to flying.   
  
I mean, being able to go fly in a thunderstorm would be great, but   
  
I don't like the idea of being shot at while doing it...Flying   
  
should be fun, I think.  
  
Then there's different mandatory training with other vAnaous   
  
X-Men: Self-defense with Logan and Ororo, firearms with Bishop   
  
and Shard; acrobatics with Kurt and Hank... Boxing with Lorna,   
  
who possesses the roughly the same strength as myself, and is   
  
almost as invulnerable...the list seemed endless to me!  
  
The greatest pleasure, however turned out to be fencing with   
  
Kurt and Liz. I may be able to lift a locomotive now, or not   
  
be injured by anything short of ground zero of a nuke, but I   
  
don't like getting hit, and Kurt agrees with me that skill is   
  
as vital as my new physical attributes.  
  
On other fronts, I've also jotted down notes on what sort of   
  
college courses I'm interested in. And most of them, to Charles'   
  
disappointment are artistic or computer related.   
  
I keep telling him, even though he's certified that I'm a genius,  
  
not all of us are good at math or science! And at least I've   
  
got Hank on my side...  
  
Supper time:   
  
I had snack off to spend my New Years Eve quietly, reading in   
  
the Library, eating my dinner, when several of the 'students'   
  
tumbled in, intent on dragging me out to celebrate...  
  
I managed to pry myself away from most everyone with the promise   
  
that Liz and Allison could do my makeup. It took me 15 minutes   
  
to shower, put up my hair and pull on one of those sheer black   
  
body stockings that covered me from throat to toe, a black   
  
velvet dress with a swirling skirt, knee high boots, matinee   
  
gloves and my favourite jewelry: silver with blue and white   
  
topazes.  
  
Then a knock on my door heralded the invasion of Dazzler and   
  
Psylocke, with a huge Caboodles box full of makeup.  
  
It didn't take the resident rockstar and former supermodel-  
  
turned-spy long to transform the new me from a fairly pretty   
  
young woman into someone who would stop traffic, either. Which   
  
was fine with me. I hate taking a lot of time to get ready to   
  
go anywhere!  
  
But, the look on the guys' faces was well worth the ladies'   
  
efforts to dress themselves to the proverbial nines. Ororo in   
  
sky blue to Jean in pine green to Liz's sapphires and Lorna's   
  
ice green, where as the guys were in varying states of formality:   
  
Remy and Worthington in black tie, to Logan's understated   
  
Japanese suit... I felt like a raven among the peacocks, but   
  
didn't mind it in the least.   
  
I slid on my fringed velvet stole, as it seemed the cold no   
  
longer affected me, and stepped bravely in the shadows prof-  
  
fered by Liz as the mode of transportation...the ostensible   
  
result of her "little accident", I guess.  
  
For a few moments of sensory deprivation, and utter peace   
  
before I emerged into the corner of a glittering ballroom,   
  
feeling a wave of nausea and disorientation hit me as the   
  
shadows slid off my skin and my clothes. Nobody's told me that   
  
'shadowwalking' would hit me like a shot of tequila!  
  
Fortunately, Hank caught ahold of me and held on, so that my   
  
knees didn't buckle.   
  
"Why didn't ye warn me, Hank?" I whispered.  
  
"My apologies, Mademoiselle," he replied, "It is easy to over-  
  
look the fact that though your lovely visage is well aquatinted   
  
to us, that the eyes behind the face are new, and most unaccustomed   
  
to some of our idiosynchracies..."  
  
I couldn't help but laugh, "No kidding! Now, how about telling   
  
me where we are?"  
  
"Our noctiforous mode of conveyance has brought us to the   
  
mysterious, oft maligned Hellfire Club, for the New Year's Gala."   
  
he continued as he escorted me out into the glitterati of Society,   
  
"Our charming Baroness Braddock is Black Bishop of this august   
  
organisation, and from our affiliate school, the inestimateable   
  
Emma Frost is White Queen. I shall impart more of this history and   
  
minutae of our relations with the Inner Circle later, but for now,   
  
let us partake in the libations and festivities.."  
  
And throughout the evening, I notised dozens of celebrities   
  
and V.I.P's from all over the world. Hank introduced me to   
  
Sersi, an immortal psionic who was attending with Hercules   
  
(both are Avengers), where I found myself digressing into a   
  
discussion of Classical history and fashion.   
  
I surprised Hank and myself both, by maintaining my composure.   
  
I think Sersi could sense my excitement and utter fascination   
  
with their anecdotes and observations, though by the time the   
  
four of us got to historical fashion, I was holding my own!  
  
I left Hank with a group of other prominent scientific types   
  
and decided to mingle a bit. I thought I saw Jean across the   
  
room, and made my way over to her, though I wondered where   
  
she'd found time to change from her dark green taffeta evening   
  
gown into that stunning little black number. Something about   
  
it wasn't quite the style of the woman I'd gotten aquainted   
  
with...  
  
She turned toward me, and for once, I was surprised. She looked   
  
exactly like Jean, but different. More predatory, with a definite   
  
edge to her.  
  
"Hello, Rogue..." she said in a silky voice, "I'm surprised to   
  
see you here."  
  
I returned her stare, "I'm not Rogue. I'm Anastasia D'Vir'. I'm   
  
sorry, but I don't recall meeting you before, though you do   
  
look familiar, Ms. ....."  
  
She looked confused for a moment, and then pasted on a rather  
  
convincing smile, "Ah, a pleasure, Ms. D'Vir'. I'm Madelyne   
  
Pryor, and it's nice to meet you."  
  
The woman introduced me to a striking young Oriental man with   
  
dark blue eyes, and a young man with green hair. Lord Shinobi   
  
Shaw, and Lord Trevor FitzRoy, whom I determined to be the Black   
  
King and White Rook respectively.  
  
Though I didn't really want to talk to her, Madelyne insisted   
  
that I join her... 


	6. A Second Lease on Life: Chapter 6

A Second Lease on Life Ch. 6  
  
The Hellfire Club, New Year's Eve....  
  
So this chick that looks like Jean Grey-Summers with a serious   
  
attitude shift wants to talk to me? She and Shaw escorted me   
  
to a beautifully preserved salon off the ballroom, with FitzRoy   
  
bringing up the rear.  
  
I didn't like the way he felt in to my "Sight" gift. He reeked   
  
of death, and it took a great deal of willpower to keep from   
  
physically retching in his presence, though there was something   
  
about Madelyne that was both similar and different...like she   
  
really wasn't alive. It gave me the creeps.  
  
She gestured for the White Rook to close the door while Shaw   
  
seated me in one of the delicate Louis Quince chairs, eventually  
  
taking one her self, "It has come to my attention that you have   
  
recently been admitted to the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning,   
  
and I am concerned that Dr. Xavier and his associates may not   
  
have your best interests at heart... I was once a student there,   
  
myself, and the results were rather detrimental to my health."  
  
I cocked my head and gave her my "so why don't you get to the   
  
point" expression, "And what do you consider to be "in my best   
  
interest", Ms. Pryor? I am hardly the young, inexperienced   
  
woman ye must have been..."  
  
"Dr. Xavier has not mentioned that you bear a striking resemblance   
  
to a former student of his, whom possesses a rather..how shall I   
  
say? Unsavory? ...past? There are a good deal of people who would   
  
dearly love to take their grudges out on one who is ill prepared   
  
to defend herself against such assailants." the redhead continued,   
  
"The X-Men may proclaim to take care of their own, but I'm living   
  
testament to the hypocrisy they embody, Ms. d'Vir."  
  
I gave her nothing but pokerfaced as we continued to stare each   
  
other down, "I am not sure ye have my best interests at heart,   
  
either, Ms. Pryor. In fact, I think that yer experience was detri-  
  
mental to yer health that you're not even alive...rather like   
  
'young' Mr. FitzRoy over there, in fact..."  
  
She flushed as red as her hair, and I heard Shinobi gasp at my   
  
accusation, his hand resting on my shoulder, and tightening   
  
imperceptibly. I knew I was pushing things, but since when had   
  
that ever stopped me before?  
  
"..Yer about as "viable" as your predecessor, Selene wasn't it?"   
  
I continued, my voice light, yet dripping with sarcasm, "And it   
  
strikes me that ye have inherited more than just her mantle of   
  
Black Queen, m'lady, being that I happen to recollect the rather   
  
mysterious death of a young fellow called Nate Grey--something   
  
about a corpse crumbling to dust when the coroner touched it?"  
  
Madelyne swallowed hard, her veneer of graciousness thinning   
  
quickly as I had a flash of danger crackle up my spine. The   
  
White Rook was coming at Shaw and Madelyne was reaching for   
  
me--I must have gone from curiosity to threat in a nanosecond,   
  
because her intent was hardly benevolent.  
  
I was later grateful that I wore gloves, blocking her ability   
  
to absorb any energies out of me, conversely preventing my   
  
accidentally absorbing anything from her... You see, I HATE   
  
undead anything. And this wasn't the first time I'd run into   
  
them, either. Albuquerque's Goth scene has a few of them, too.  
  
I shoved Shaw out of the way, and grabbed her, acting on pure   
  
instinct, spun her into FitzRoy's path in time for the pair of   
  
them to collide, I grumbled half to myself, "Y'know, lady, I   
  
really, really hate vampires..."   
  
Shaw tackled me, sending the pair of us through the floor as   
  
the conflicting auras of two soulsuckers created some kind of   
  
portal that imploded on the pair of them.  
  
I heard a muffled roar, the splintering of wood as the salon   
  
was rapidly demolished, and heard myself scream...   
  
When we hit the floor below us, Shaw and I were both quite solid   
  
and landed with a dull thud. Fortunately, I broke our fall and  
  
was only a little winded....this bit about being invulnerable   
  
was going to take some getting used to. Shaw groaned, catching   
  
his breath more rapidly than I'd have given a spoiled rich kid   
  
credit for.  
  
"I believe I owe you an apology for my previous rudeness and my   
  
gratitude for saving my life, Ms. D'Vir," he said gravely as he   
  
helped me to my feet, "I don't want to know how you knew what   
  
that redheaded strumpet was up to, but I'm glad you knew, else   
  
I'd have been so much dust to be swept under the carpet. You do   
  
realise, that you are, by rights claimant to the position of Black   
  
Queen..."  
  
I gave him a funny look, shaking my head, trying not to laugh   
  
at the absurd turns my life had just taken, "Look, Shaw, I'm   
  
not rich, I'm not famous. I just a lady who's been in the wrong   
  
places at the right times recently. I'm not some spandex-clad,   
  
angsting vigilante or adventurer here. I barely understand what   
  
the hell has happened to turn my life upside down, inside out   
  
and bass-ackwards in the last two weeks..."  
  
Shaw was surprisingly sympathetic as he guided me to a chair,   
  
leaving me fireside while he went to the sideboard to collect   
  
a pair of glasses and a bottle of sherry, "I know the feeling,   
  
Ms. D'Vir. When my father died, I inherited Shaw Industries,   
  
his position as Black King and a legacy I wasn't particularly   
  
proud of. He'd had a contract with the government to produce   
  
components for those "Sentinel" robots that they want to use   
  
to hunt down mutants so they can inter them in camps, much   
  
like the Nazis did the Jews, among other things. Emma, Erik and   
  
I haven't had enough of a power base to feel safe removing those   
  
two from our ranks. You have done in one night what we have been  
  
plotting for months. No vulgar displays of power, no convoluted   
  
plots, nothing but simple observation and, it seems what Emma   
  
mentioned about you is accurate, an uncanny knack for "knowing   
  
things." She feels that your straightforwardness and practicality   
  
would serve the "greater good" quite well..."  
  
I took another sip of the good sherry, listening to his recruit-  
  
ing speech, sensing a fair bit of ulterior motive as well as a   
  
good dose of truth in his words, "I'll think about what yer say-  
  
ing, Shaw, but I'm not making ye any promises. I'll accept the place   
  
of Black Queen, but if I catch any of ye doing anything really   
  
underhanded, I'll act as I see fit. I think I'm going to stay at   
  
Xavier's for now, finish my degree and learn what I can from the   
  
lot of ye as well. I am a woman to takes life on my own terms, and   
  
I believe we had best rejoin the festivities before we are missed..." 


	7. A Second Lease on Life: Chapter 7

New Year's Day:   
  
I'd spent the night, dancing, reveling and in general and   
  
discovering that I was rather immune to the effects of alcohol,   
  
I lost track of the X-Men and wound up spending a great deal   
  
of time talking to Shinobi...   
  
I wasn't surprised to discover that he had been an abused kid, too.   
  
Seemed like it didn't matter, wheather one was rich or poor, nor   
  
what colour your skin was or your genetic makeup...some things in   
  
life were oddly parrallel.   
  
And he was struggling with trying to find his own identity,   
  
after his late--and much unlamented--father's death. I knew how   
  
tough that was, hell, I'd spent over 10 years trying to "find   
  
myself" and still fought some of the inner demons every day...   
  
I wasn't going to let him make excuses to me for some of the   
  
things he's done, but I could understand why he'd done them--  
  
and after talking all night about vAnaous things, I had begun   
  
to get to know the real Shinobi Shaw.   
  
Hell, we even had a "date" for lunch after he got back from his   
  
business trip to Tokyo, and he'd left me with a Platnuim card in   
  
case I ran into any emergencies...   
  
I was in a good mood, and part of my hyper-active mind was running   
  
through options as I walked for a means of transportation,   
  
heading through the pre-dawn light back to Westchester County.   
  
It was beautiful out, and I didn't mind the length of the walk..   
  
it gave me time to gather my thoughts on a number of things that'd   
  
happened in the last month...   
  
I was partially lost in thought when I recognised the mansion   
  
before me, and carefully slipped through the gap I'd bent in the   
  
fence, then wandering up the driveway...   
  
I "felt" a sudden "gloom" settle over my mind, in part due to   
  
the sense of forboding I suddenly got from my Sight-gift, and   
  
the sense I got from my strong, shortrange telepathy.   
  
Somebody wasn't happy with me, and I didn't have to guess who...   
  
I pulled an Altoid out of my evening bag and crunched through   
  
the newly fallen snow up to the door and let myself in.   
  
Ororo opened the door, obviously one of the early birds here,   
  
giving me a worried look, "Ro--Anastasia, we were all worried about   
  
you..."   
  
I glared at her, "Since when do ye worry about a grown woman,   
  
who happens to want to enjoy a night out? And what business is   
  
it of yers if I did stay out?"   
  
The weather elemental stopped, unaccustomed to her "mothering"   
  
being lost on a familiar face, that now had burning golden eyes,   
  
"I--ah...."   
  
The black velvet of my cocktail gown swirled around my ankles,   
  
leaving me a stark, hopefully intimidating contrast with the   
  
pure white snow that I stood upon, "Sod off, Ms. Munroe..."   
  
It was then I heard someone clear their throat behind me, and   
  
saw Scott standing there, weAnang his "Al Borland" plaid flannel   
  
shirt, jeans and hiking boots, cup of coffee in hand, "You are a   
  
part of this team, and we expect the courtesy of knowing of your   
  
where abouts..."   
  
The emotions eminating from the man grated on my newly enhansed   
  
psychic senses as Jean, Hank, Remy Logan and Charles were revealed   
  
to be in the parlour, and with Ororo and Stick-in-the-mud behind   
  
me, I was a bit at a disadvantage, but I was determined to hold   
  
my ground, because my private life was none of their damned   
  
business.   
  
I pinned Scott down with a dark glare, instinctivly switching   
  
to mind speak, [Sod off, toerag! Ye have NO right to try and   
  
dictate my coming and going. I am not a part of yer team, nor   
  
am I one of yer little toy soldiers or idealists. Chromedome's   
  
got a few nice ideas running around in that vault he calls a   
  
head, but I've lived out in the "real world" alot longer than   
  
most of ye have... 31 years of it, and I've got the mental scars   
  
to prove it. Ye "kids" have been isolated out here, in the lap   
  
of luxury and ye, in particular, have been looking at the world   
  
through some intensely rose coloured specs, peg boy... Why don't   
  
ye crawl back under your rock and pretend to love yer fiancee   
  
and be a good little boy? I know where ye go on Monday nights.]   
  
Scott stopped short, his face flaming at the inference I'd made,   
  
leaving him sputtering, "Wha...how? You can't be strong enough to   
  
read me?"   
  
[Who said anything about how strong my telepathy needs to be?]   
  
I replied, with a dangerous smile, [I don't need it, "Poppa Pump"...   
  
I can See, remember?]   
  
The look on his face was priceless as he slithered out of the   
  
room. There were some people in the world, that just begged   
  
to be ground under the heel of the truth because they were so   
  
self deluded and clueless....no, it was more than that... some   
  
of them were just that plain stupid...   
  
Even Ol' Cueball was speechless.   
  
Charles opened his mouth, and then closed it again--several   
  
times, apparently thinking better of attempting to lecture me   
  
at that pAnacular moment...   
  
[Well, if the rest of ye are thinking that I'm a "good little   
  
girl" who'll capitulate to "daddy's" wishes and appologise,   
  
yer wrong,] I told them, though Remy couldn't meet me in the   
  
eye and Ororo was still dumbfounded, [I'm my own person, and   
  
who I choose to call friend is my business, not anybody else's.   
  
Got that? Good. There are maybe two or three of this lot of   
  
angsting loosers I'd be willing to call friends... And only   
  
one of them is in this room right now...]  
  
I pinned Hank "Bones" McCoy witha meaningful gaze, waiting for   
  
the shit to hit the fan....   
  
Charles motioned for Hank to leave, "This is between the remainder   
  
of us, Hank..."   
  
I stepped inside the door, wiping my bare feet of the cool,   
  
white flakes, eyes ablaze. Funny how he'd dismissed Hank, but   
  
not Remy.. that silver-tongued rogue was no friend of mine...   
  
Xavier steepled his fingers and regarded me, "Your choice of....   
  
companions... leaves much to be desired, Anastasia. The Shaws   
  
are wholely unsuitable people, they have a past history with the   
  
X-Men.. of proving to be backstabbing, conniving individuals..."   
  
Ororo nodded in concurrance, but didn't say anything as Summers   
  
returned and decided to insert his two cents worth, "You put   
  
the team at risk last night... Your're being irresponsible..."   
  
I raised an eyebrow, [Really? Since when did being a student at   
  
the Xavier Institute make one an X-man? I don't recall ever being   
  
part of yer precious little team, Summers...]  
  
He swallowed hard, as if he suddenly rememebered that I wasn't   
  
the same woman who'd been at his beck and call for the last few   
  
years, he tried to regain his "authority" but fell flat on his   
  
face, "Ro..Anaande...that's not the point...."   
  
I gave them one of those "evil", cold, calculating smiles I've   
  
been known to share with those whom are in very real danger of   
  
pissing me off, [Isn't it, though? I may be training individually   
  
with Kit, Liz, Kurt, Hank and Emma, but that doesn't mean that my   
  
goal is to parade around in spandex like the rest of ye rotters...   
  
I've got better things to do...]  
  
Summers made an effort to grab my arm and stop me from leaving,   
  
only to realise too late that the martial arts training I'd been   
  
immersed in had taken hold... I had instinctively used the moves   
  
that I'd been drilling on to reflexively break his grip on me,   
  
and whip his arm behind his back, my bare hand digging into his   
  
flesh...   
  
Xavier's eyes went wide as he saw me.. whose face..and ostebsibly  
  
powers.. were familiar to him, making skin to skin contact with   
  
his "teacher's pet"... Scott acted like he was afraid something   
  
was going to happen, when I finally released him a few minutes   
  
later, with nothing more than a badly disloacted shoulder to show   
  
for it...   
  
"My sister couldn't be touched," I told him bluntly, speakin   
  
aloud, as if I were talking to a child, "I dont't like being   
  
touched...especially by strangers. Do that again, and I'll break   
  
it insead of dislocating it!"   
  
Ororo paled as she realised what had just happened: "Rogue" had   
  
touched someone without absorbing them...Xavier tried to use   
  
his telepathy on me, but found he was as unable to "read" me   
  
as he'd been my little sister, whose body I now inhabited.   
  
I heard the fringes of telepathic conversation as Ororo went   
  
to help Summers with that dislocated shoulder, and Xavier tried   
  
to figure out what just happened... All I wanted was a nice   
  
shower, pair of jeans and a clean shirt...and some breakfast...   
  
I headed up to my room, and locked the door after taking the   
  
caligraphied name card out of the door and printed the name of   
  
one of my favourite WildStorm comic characters on it...   
  
It now said "Savant".... 


	8. A Second Lease on Life: Chapter 8

4 Feb  
  
Okay.  
  
I've not posted to my journal in a while.  
  
I've been busy with university.... and...  
  
gasp A Life!  
  
Cueball ain't happy about that part either.  
  
He doesn't like that I'd taken over the other side of the attic/  
  
loft for myself, or that I've refused to participate in any of   
  
his little "team excursions" or any of that nonsense.  
  
And he absolutely hates the fact that he can't read me or track   
  
me with that Cerebra unit of his...  
  
...nevermind the fact that I've been seeing a bloke he positively   
  
can't stand, keeping company with people he thinks are "out to   
  
corrupt poor, innocent Anaadne" and all that beleagured whatnot...  
  
I'm 31 years old, fer cryin' out loud, ye bloody git!  
  
So, Betts and Emma live down in Manhattan, Kit and I have been   
  
spending more time down there than we do up here... The real   
  
world folks are far more interesting than these bloody wanna-be-  
  
cultists masquerading as civil-rights activitsts!  
  
Anyway... us geek-grrls have been moving our stuff out a bit at   
  
a time, and today, while everybody was doing the "let's go out   
  
and do V-day stuff" dingus, we put the last of the stuff in Ye   
  
Olde U-Haul and headed down the freeway to Manhattan.  
  
I can't beleive all the things that've happened in the last six   
  
weeks...  
  
I can benchpress more than an 18-wheeler can pull...  
  
I am damned near invulnerable...  
  
And maybe best of all... I can fly!!  
  
And my hair's turning white... Kit's helping me colour it every   
  
few days to auburn, but it keeps "bleaching"!  
  
Betts and Emma are trying to encourage me to let it go...and   
  
I'm thinking about it!  
  
The "other" thing that's changed is that I'm actually seeing   
  
somebody...  
  
If you're thinking Shinobi, then you'd have the right of it!  
  
We've been doing the "friends" thing since he got back from Tokyo   
  
about a month ago... well, going out, seeing things, doing stuff,   
  
all the things that Emma and Tony, Betts and Joseph--hell, even   
  
Kit and Doug have been joining us lately!  
  
After we get this to Emma's building staff, I've got a limo   
  
picking me up for an afternoon at the day spa: Shin's treat.  
  
He's meeting me there... and we're going to be pampered and   
  
generally spoiled rotten before going to dinner at the Starlight   
  
Room and the opening of a new Chinese exhibit at the Gardner   
  
Museum!  
  
It's funny, sometimes...   
  
All the "doors" that are opening for me, now. How much things   
  
have changed in six short weeks...  
  
I get goosebumps thinking about it.. and thinking about a pair   
  
of stunning London-blue-topaz eyes and a smile that makes me   
  
feel all warm inside!  
  
Me.   
  
And one of the "Most Eligible Bachelors" in the world, with a   
  
Fortune 200 congomerate.  
  
And friends like the "UK's Most Beautiful Woman" or the richest   
  
woman in the industrialised world, who owns a Fortune 100 tech   
  
and aero-space firm.  
  
And that's not the half of it.  
  
To me, they're Shin, Betts and Em. They're people. Like me.  
  
I keep waking up, wondering what happened.. feeling a little   
  
like Cinderella meets Sleeping Beauty meets the Matrix.  
  
But it's real.   
  
Funny how time flies when you're thinking and listening to the   
  
Sisters of Mercy on Kitty's boombox...  
  
I'm pulling the U-Haul up to the loading dock of the Frost   
  
Interstellar tower, where there's a team of housekeeping staff   
  
waiting to reassemble my life in a penthouse some 75 stories   
  
above the Manhattan skyline, above the drizzle and roar of   
  
traffic...  
  
I look up at the building and the first thing that goes through   
  
my mind is that I'm moving into an "ivory tower" of white concrete,   
  
steel and mirror glass.   
  
It's a little frightening, at times, but I'm a brave geekgrrl!  
  
Kitty hugs me, promising to ensure that my computers are not   
  
harmed, and a middle aged fellow in livery of Frost Interstellar's   
  
security escorts me through the front of the building as I sling   
  
a back pack over my shoulder and step out under the awning to   
  
see a sleek, small black limo pull up.  
  
The doorman, attired in pristine white with silver braid on his   
  
uniform, greets me by name and opens the door on the limo--  
  
holding a brolly over me while I get in, no less.  
  
And inspite of my old Levis, scuffed Docs and battered leather   
  
jacket and backpack, treats me like I'm the bloody Queen of   
  
England!  
  
----------------------------  
  
Shinobi smiled at me, with this look that makes my heart skip   
  
a beat... I can't get used to somebody thinking that I am   
  
beautiful, and wanting to be around me for a myriad of reasons..   
  
but he does..and unlike other women,he likes the fact that we   
  
can--and do--talk... about anything and everything under the   
  
sun.  
  
"I trust all went well breaking out of Alcatrazz?" he asked   
  
me with a mischevious twinkle in those azure eyes, slipping   
  
an arm around me as we rode to Mark Pardo's Fifth Avenue day   
  
spa.  
  
"Oy, luv! Ye'd be surprised... like bloody cake!" I told him,   
  
thinking about how much my life failed to suck at this moment,   
  
"Kit be safely at Frost Tower, and I be here with ye!"  
  
He and I snuggled a little closer together, just enjoying the   
  
comfort of each other's company for a little of the way... And   
  
then I felt something placed in my hands: a little paper gift   
  
bag with red and white tissue paper peeking out the top and a   
  
piece of origami in the form of a white cat tucked into the   
  
front of it.  
  
IF I wasn't mistaken, there was a discrete logo for Van Cleef &   
  
Arpels on the lower corner...and my hands must have been shaking   
  
badly for Shin to have to steady the gift...I knew they were a   
  
little numb and tingly as I held my breath, removing the card..   
  
a beautiful origami concoction with an original haiku inscribed   
  
on it.  
  
"Frost hair. Amber eyes.  
  
Her spirit burns so brightly.  
  
More so than high sun."  
  
And hidden inside the bag was a box...with a breathtaking set   
  
of amber and platnium earrings and a matching necklace in classic   
  
Deco fasion... the same colour as my eyes, and obviously antique.  
  
I'm not one of those gals you find speechless very often, but   
  
everytime I tried to open my mouth to say something, no sound   
  
came out....All I could do was try not to drop them, and stare   
  
at Shinobi, who finally came to my rescue and set his present   
  
aside...  
  
I barely remember him pulling me into his lap and just holding   
  
me while I cried... I can't even remember why I started crying.   
  
I never cry... I know, you're thinking "never say never"...  
  
He just held me the rest of the way across town, making me feel   
  
safe with him, finally giving in and kissing away the tears and   
  
that was enough to make this lady forget why was crying--hell,   
  
the way that bloke kisses is enough to make me forget to breathe!  
  
We finally wound up at that day spa...it was this little oasis   
  
of green paradice in the middle of all the grey of NYC's concrete,   
  
steel and mist.  
  
It even smelled green, y'know?  
  
The sound of trickling water was everywhere, thanks to these   
  
beautiful marble fountains, and the interior was in a Classical   
  
style, I know I must've looked quite the bugouis bumpkin stAnang   
  
at everything the way I was... but I always have been one to openly  
  
appreciate beauty when I see it.   
  
I can't really help it, what with my enhansed senses and the   
  
Sight-gift. I percieve minutae that most would never think to   
  
wonder about, and I'll give the staff credit for not being fazed   
  
by a tough looking 'punk' chick with hair that won't hold the   
  
auburn dye showing up with a guy who's as well known as Donald   
  
Trump or the Duke of York.  
  
I was shown to a dressing room, where I was presented with a   
  
plushy robe and all the comforts of an elegant boudoir to freshen   
  
up in and prepare for the afternoon's indulgences...  
  
The next few hours comprised of more 'beauty treatments' and   
  
pampering than I could oridnarly name, from a facial and manicure/  
  
pedicure to massage and an herbal wrap... They even managed to get   
  
the dye out of my hair, leaving it truly snow white, and trimmed   
  
to just about waist length, with none of the annoying perm left   
  
on the ends, a nice French manicure and every inch of me feeling   
  
tingly and invigorated.  
  
Shin joined me in the hot tub to relax for a spell... I was weAnang   
  
nothing but what the Goddess had seen fit to refit me with, and I   
  
could feel the colour rise in my face as he looked at me in the water.  
  
Something about not being used to having a "nice" 36D and having your   
  
sweetie really appreciating the view..and being psychic..to make a   
  
lady turn pink, even when the "hot" tub doesn't feel anything more   
  
than nice and warm!  
  
Not that I minded what I saw between his ears, either...or what those   
  
hands of his started doing... Remember what I said about Shin being   
  
able to kiss well enough to make me forget to breathe?   
  
'Nuff said! 


	9. A Second Lease on Life: Chapter 9

14 Feb, Evening  
  
I was so wrapped up in moving that I forgot it was V-Day for   
  
the lovers of the world, and I forgot that that also included   
  
me...  
  
Yeah. I cried when Shin gave me that amber Deco stuff... it   
  
was beautiful, and so was his state of mind. It wasn't the   
  
greatest haiku, but who am Ito complain that he cooked it   
  
up in the car, on the way and folded me a white cat?  
  
It was really sweet... and then he gave me this new PDA/PalmPC   
  
thing that he'd asked Tony and Em to cook up for me!  
  
I can actually "mindspeak" to it alot easier than I could other   
  
electronics, so I should be able to record a jornal a little   
  
easier now...  
  
Either way, that hot tub was rather nice after I quit blushing  
  
...and at least they let us have a little QT before they sprung   
  
the full "makeover" dingus on me!  
  
Shin had spent the day "window shopping" for things he thought   
  
I'd like, and that bloke has damned good taste!   
  
Deco, bay-bee! Vintage designs all the way! And dammmnnn, if   
  
he didn't seem set on seeing me speechless!  
  
I never thought anything could feel as good on bare skin as   
  
silk, but Blessed Lady... it's like being caressed all over,   
  
and with no way to wear a bra? Do I have enough self-confidence   
  
to actually go out in front of the poparazzi like this?   
  
That little black '30s-style cocktail number actually made   
  
me actually feel beautiful--not to mention femme fatale sexy  
  
--nor did I ever think that 36D would be my friend!  
  
The end result of silver screen era makeup and having my hair   
  
put up like that was an eye opener...somewhere along the way,   
  
this beautiful stranger had emerged, and she had my strange   
  
amber eyes, snow-white hair and the antique jewelry I'd cried   
  
over earlier in the day.  
  
I couldn't believe the the chick with the fabulous, sculpted   
  
body and gorgous face was me...until Shin slipped up behind me   
  
in a Nehru-style Tux and slid his arms around me... This has   
  
sooo got to be a dream, I still think I'm going to wake up back   
  
in Albuquerque, and be alone with my geekgrrl-heldesk-jockey   
  
job again.  
  
Well.... Time for dinner!  
  
---------------  
  
Shin had taken me out to the famous Starlight Room, atop the   
  
Chrysler Building, my favourite example of Art Deco architecture   
  
in the world, for a romantic candlelight dinner with soft jazz   
  
in the background, and all of the Big Apple sparlking like   
  
jewels on black velvet below us...  
  
I wasn't surprised to espy Warren Worthington there, either...   
  
another rich mutant who plays at superhero. Bloody git doesn't   
  
pay any attention to his electronics and avionics firm, either.   
  
Looks like he's got this Oriental bit on his arm, by the name   
  
of Setsuke Fujikawa... wonder if that's of "The Fujikawas"?  
  
That being filed away for future use....  
  
Dinner meant we got a chance to actually talk about why I'd   
  
decided to take Emma up on her offer to move down to Manhattan   
  
and actually attend classes at Columbia and NYU, rather than   
  
continue residing at the Xavier Institute...  
  
In the six weeks since New Year's, I'd not gotten any real,   
  
practical help from anyone short of Liz and Emma with my psi-  
  
talents, and more mind-numbing headaches thanks to the bad   
  
head-space up there... Kurt, Hank and Joseph were the only ones,   
  
aside from the previous two and Kate who'd worked with me in   
  
the holodeck on adjusting to my new abilities and my renewed   
  
passion for martial arts and fencing...  
  
I had been the one to do most of the work getting signed up   
  
for distance learning classes at Columbia and actually getting   
  
admitted to NYU... so much for all the "help" Cueball'd promised   
  
me!  
  
Guess that's the way the biscuit crumbles when you don't want   
  
anything to do with his private militia--and all that crock of   
  
wanting to know exactly who I was visiting and where I was   
  
going... Sheesh!!  
  
I really hadn't meant to dump on Shin like that, but he's been   
  
really good company--we listen to each other vent. Cueball's   
  
gang could really stand to work on their interpersonal skills,   
  
y'know?  
  
I eventually bucked up and gritted my teeth enough to stomach   
  
using my flight to get to and from school down here--it was   
  
easier than arguing with "Sir Stick-up-his-arse" about using   
  
one of the vehicles or swiping the Cajun's Harley.  
  
I figure I'll ramble in this journal about it later, I've got   
  
a museum opening to go enjoy!  
  
-----------------------------  
  
Shin slipped his arm around me as we left the Starlight Room   
  
after a fine dinner and a chance to relax and unwind together.  
  
"Feeling better?" he asked me, lips brushing my cheek.  
  
"Yeah... I'm sorry to "dump" on you, Shin," I replied, enjoying   
  
the closeness, "I mean, it's V-day after all, and there's nothing   
  
romantic about having your date unburden herself in your general  
  
direction..."  
  
He tilted my face up so that I had to look him in the eye,   
  
those peculiar dark blue eyes warm, "Maybe not, but isn't that   
  
what an S.O. is for? To share the good and the bad? To help you   
  
feel better?"  
  
I hadn't thought of it that way... but the way he said it, and   
  
the way I've listened to him, it made sense. We were somewhere   
  
between being friends and something more...  
  
"You got me there," I agreed, as we exited the lift into the   
  
brisk, light sleet of Manhattan in February, his arm tightenign   
  
around my cloaked shoulders, "And you do just that... I enjoy   
  
your company, Shin...alot."  
  
"Good... now, let's go see your eyes light up at that gala   
  
opening!" he teased me, helping me into the limo before sliding   
  
in next to me, "I can't wait to see what you think of what they've   
  
got on display, and knowing your passion for antiquities, you're   
  
in for a treat, Ana!"  
  
I simply smiled, knowing that things it was going to be almost   
  
magical.  
  
-----------------------  
  
15 February, sometime after 2 am  
  
I can't begin to describe the exhibits... We're going to see   
  
them again this weekend, but kinda "ingognito" so that I can   
  
linger and let it all soak in again and commit everything to   
  
memory!  
  
We're curled up here in the den of Shin's Park Avenue flat,   
  
just relaxing and sipping Reisling in front of the fire,   
  
listening to Ofra Haza...  
  
Shin was right, some times we don't even have to talk.. just   
  
"be". 


	10. A Second Lease on Life: Chapter 10

18 Februrary  
  
Well, it's been an interesting couple of days since I left the   
  
Institute.  
  
I'm shAnang a huge pent house with a DDG corp-dominatrix-tycoon   
  
type, who also happens to be one of the strongest telepaths alive,   
  
an exotic fellow Brit who's got similar psi-talents to mine, and a   
  
sweet-16 geekgrrl who's a gifted ballerina and almost my equal as   
  
a hacker...and more kid-sister than I ever thought I'd have...  
  
...I spent V-day with a guy that I really like, taking in a candle-  
  
light dinner and going to a gala museum opening, and the rest of   
  
the night at his place cuddling in front of the fire with a bottle   
  
of good wine...  
  
...and yesterday morning?  
  
Hooo boy, I could feel Cueball seething after he got back from   
  
some high level garbage in DC!   
  
I could "feel" him trying to use that bloody Cerebra dingus to   
  
locate Kitty and myself...but we'd hacked his system and erased   
  
any reference to the HFC's mutant/metahuman members or ourselves   
  
days before--from the inside, no less!  
  
Emma altered Kitty's neural patterns, and with my mind fully inte-  
  
grated into this body, I'm verily invisible to him, which proved   
  
rather amusing, since this thing seems to amplify him and make him   
  
hyper-sensitive...  
  
I had a dull migraine cooking on the back burner, and wasn't in the   
  
best of moods, so I couldn't resist shoving that migraine right up   
  
his amplified arse and felt perfectly justified in doing so... right   
  
under his bloody radar!  
  
Never expected Emma and Liz to look so pleased--they've been teach-  
  
ing me all the dirty tricks in addition to what I picked up from Jean  
  
--and she knows all of Xavier's tricks... soooo, you get the picture.  
  
Makes the first time, for the record, that I've actually "used" any   
  
of said tricks to cook up something of my own, though!  
  
My head felt a little better after that!  
  
-----------------------  
  
Emma and Liz have suggested Kate and I write up our experiences   
  
at the Xavier Intitute and file a copy of them with an attourney,   
  
one Ms. Jennifer Walters, to be exact, and file another in a safety   
  
desposit box, and one with Frost Interstellar's firm... I talked to   
  
Shin about it, and he agreed that it was a good idea.  
  
So, that's on top of FT university, homework and PT job here in   
  
Frost IT's geekdesk...and going out with Shin from time to time.  
  
Speaking of classes, the more I learn about how IT works, the easier   
  
a time I'm having of communicating with them...short range telepath,   
  
but quite comprehensive in scope, it would seem!  
  
Kate and Emma've been tutoring me on programming, as I'm dyslexic   
  
as the day is long, but thanks to their patience and perseverence,   
  
Vis Basic is finally starting to make sense--I'll consider being able   
  
to build a dice-roller proggie to be a serious victory!  
  
I usually hack by instinct--and Sight-gift--it turns out... just   
  
"knowing" what to do, but the more I learn, the better I can do it,   
  
I'm thinking...  
  
Only problem is, I'm bored outta my ever-lovin' gourd here in the   
  
graphics class... I'm practicing cyberpathy on a Silicon Graphics   
  
workstation and creating "mindscapes" in Photoshop and Illustrator,   
  
and 'writing' in my journal...  
  
What...or rather...who is on my mind?  
  
Shinobi... or "Shin" as I think of him.  
  
Guy's got a heck of a rep as a billionaire playboy and all that,   
  
stemming from his college days, and his fraternity... He's got a   
  
B.S. in Economics and Asian Studies from Oxford, and a M.B.A. from   
  
Harvard, and another M.A. in Languages from said same university...  
  
He's ostensibly a mutant, with phasing abillities similar to Kate's,   
  
but allowing him complete control over the density of his body, and   
  
a bloody good grasp of how to use them...hell, he's been tutoring   
  
her the way Em and Liz have been tutoring me!  
  
He's a drop dead sexy Eurasian. That means exotic. And exotic means   
  
that he's a "hot property", and is considered one of Cosmo's "Top 10   
  
Most Eligible Bachelors."  
  
He's got advanced 'dan' in a couple of martial arts, was a decent   
  
fencer at Oxford and Harvard...  
  
And he's got the bloody bluest eyes... Silky, long indigo hair...   
  
and a smile that makes my heart skip a beat...and a kiss that makes   
  
me forget to breathe. And he's all of 26.  
  
What the hell is he thinking?  
  
I'm 31, in the 17 year old body of the kid sister I never knew I   
  
had... turns out I'm not only psychic now, I can punch through a   
  
bank vault and walk through a bloody inferno unscathed.   
  
My biological father turns out to be an alien superhero (same as   
  
hers) I've never even heard of, from several galaxies away, and   
  
since she absorbed me I'm not "just" 1/2 alien, I'm like a full-  
  
blooded-what-ever-I-am...  
  
I'm not exactly wealthy, but since my bio-dad was an Avenger, I get   
  
a comfortable trust fund that would've gone to me and Appolonia,   
  
from the MAnaa Stark Foundation, and a full scholarship to NYU and   
  
Columbia...that's not such a bad thing...I make more money working   
  
25 hours a week for Frost Interstellar than I ever did doing full   
  
time for Intel's internal help desk on the "Silicon Mesa"!!!  
  
But gimme a break, my flonqing life could've come out of a comic   
  
book or a tabloid at this point...  
  
I know I saved his bloody life New Year's Eve--not to mention my   
  
own--as it's not the first time I've run into vAnaous forms of   
  
vampires... but c'mon, this is me, Anastasia Galatea d'Vir, we're   
  
talking about...   
  
This is absolutely nucking futts... I "wished" for a ghost of life   
  
on Mid-winter's full-moon Sabbat, and a chance to go back to university...  
  
I mean, I'm no stranger to random wierdness in my life, but accidentally  
  
becoming the Black Queen of the most exclusive social organisation   
  
in the world, by "right of conquest"??  
  
I'm a nobody...whose life just got turned wrongside out 10 weeks   
  
ago...by a freak accident... I woke up to the face of my kid sister,   
  
and some whackos from some wanna-be spandex brigade breaking into my   
  
flat...  
  
...and now?  
  
I just want to hide?  
  
Fat chance, d'Vir.  
  
My crazy birth-mum once said, when I was very little, that I would   
  
lead an interesting life or something like that... Shin says that's  
  
an old Oriental curse: to tell someone "May you lead an interesting   
  
life.." or "May you live in interesting times.."   
  
I'm beginning to believe him!  
  
And like every Wiccan/Pagan type, I shoulda remembered that old line   
  
about "be careful what you wish for, you might get it..."  
  
Here I am, taking classes at an Ivy League university, working for   
  
a Fortune 100 company, rooming with said same corp's Pres/CEO, an   
  
ex-supermodel-turned-spy, and actually gasp having a social life,   
  
too.  
  
And that doesn't even count Shin's presence.  
  
I actually asked him the other night, why he liked being around me,   
  
when he could ostensibly have almost any other woman in the world...  
  
He told me it has alot to do with the fact that I'm the sort of lady   
  
who wouldn't ordinarly give him more than the time of day... I'm not   
  
impressed by his wealth or put off by his reputation, and all that   
  
nonsense.  
  
He's not put off by my bluntness, occasional cynicism or caustic   
  
wit, though he does admit he likes what he sees--even if I'm not   
  
used to seeing it in the mirror yet...   
  
And we do understand each other, having grown up with less-than-sane,  
  
abusive parental units...and there are other, more pleasant commonalities  
  
such as a mutual passion for music and the Arts...and he's got this   
  
thing about making me speechless.  
  
Like the amber Deco jewelry on V-day, or sneaking me away for a   
  
private weekend tour of Biltmore or Hurst Castle out in San Simeon   
  
or a generous endowment to the museum to arrange a private tour of   
  
that new Chinese exhibit..spending an entire day with the curator,   
  
learning about the obscure details, and in turn, my Sight-gift   
  
returning the favour...  
  
That was enough to make me want to quit the geek-track at Columbia   
  
and follow my bliss into history and historical costuming...if only   
  
I could stomach the dead (and undead) stuff.  
  
And the sword... Lady's Blades!   
  
That. Sword.  
  
It sang in my soul when I touched it. I felt and Saw it's history   
  
and if I weren't such an honourable person, I'd acquire it...by what-  
  
ever means possible. And now I know how the character Yu Zhao-lung,   
  
the girl in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, felt when she saw/felt   
  
the Green Destiny sword that Li Mui-bai had sent to Lord Te.  
  
I never realised that the Sight could be so comprehensive, or make   
  
it so painful to relinquish something that feels like it should be a   
  
part of me. But, it would be wrong to do otherwise, and I think that's   
  
one of the things that Shin seems to admire most about me.  
  
I don't cry, but twice now, Shin's seen me cry: once in surprise and   
  
happiness over the amber, and now, not a week later, in sorrow over   
  
being parted from a bloody sword that touched my soul and spoke to me   
  
in ways that no beautiful, old thing ever has...  
  
And the things I "Saw" are what I'm using my psi-talent to "record" in  
  
Photoshop... They're still fresh in my memory, and I want to save them...  
  
maybe even put them on display somewhere...   
  
I'm still shaken by that experience, and Shin knows it...he's taking   
  
me out to dinner, since Emma saw fit to give me the next two days off,   
  
and we're going to stay up and talk about it... 


	11. A Second Lease on Life: Chapter 11

Several weeks later... 15 March  
  
This is the last of my midterms, and thus far, the term is cooking   
  
along quite nicely, with a few minor speedbumps along the way...  
  
I'm tired of being treated as if I don't know anything...but that's   
  
the price of an ageless face. I can deal with that. Most folks come   
  
around when they get to know me as time is proving.  
  
Most of my classmates pretty much leave me be: I'm the "hot geekgrrl",   
  
with the bad temper and cynical attitude...Kitty's the cute, perky   
  
one and since she's the outgoing one, most of the attention goes to   
  
her and she doesn't mind...  
  
...but that's only good for comp sci...  
  
Shin encouraged me to get in on an independent study course for   
  
history, but the grad-idiot they assigned me as a tutor is enough   
  
to make me want to tear my hair out!  
  
She has no earthly clue about history or anything...and the worst   
  
case of baby-rabies I've ever seen!  
  
Dumb bint wants to get knocked up so that she her S.O. will have   
  
to marry her, and not she won't have to really work or at think   
  
she can teach history at one of the "charter schools" that litter   
  
this town like yesterday's bleeding ticker-tape!  
  
Yeah. What. Ever. Bitches like you give real women a bad rep.  
  
Time to save entry and see of you-know-who's at the coffee shoppe   
  
like he said he'd be!  
  
-------------------------------------  
  
I clipped my PDA shut and tucked it into my utility belt as I headed   
  
into my favourite coffee shop: the Daily Grind looking for that   
  
billionaire badboy I can't resist... Journal done for the moment...   
  
One of those things I don't really keep up on when I'm buried in   
  
University!  
  
Hrmm... Wallstreet Journal. Tall French Vanilla latte. Davidhoff   
  
'Cool Water'... dead give away that is!  
  
[Oy, luv?] I mindcalled to him as I made my way through the news  
  
stand and past the counter to the comfortable bay window booth we   
  
always seem to snag when we meet here, parking my satchel on one   
  
side of the booth with his trench coat and briefcase, [Miss me?]  
  
The Journal dropped to reveal those sparkling blue eyes and the   
  
smile that nobody'd ever believe he possessed, unless they saw it   
  
in person, [Hey, Snowhead.. Of course I missed you--are you nucking   
  
futts? Two weeks in business meetings between Japan and the Left-  
  
coast may leave me jet-lagged from hell, but always happy to see   
  
my favourite lady!]  
  
He pulled me into the seat beside him, slipping his arms around me   
  
in a warm embrace and one of those gotta-remember-to-breathe kisses   
  
of his. He missed me alrighty...and I could sense a sincere desire   
  
to really spend some time together during my springbreak holiday...   
  
two whole weeks....might actually happen, that we don't get inter-  
  
rupted... long story, but suffice to say, that some people in this   
  
world have nothing better to do than interrupt "us" when we're   
  
together...  
  
...go figure...  
  
Shin tasted like French-vanilla latte, and a hint of the apple pie   
  
he'd snacked on: two things that I don't mind at all...I was happily   
  
ignoring the world, curled up with this amazingly gorgous guy when   
  
this aboslutely ear-shattering squeal assaulted our ears.  
  
"ohmygawd..ohmygawd..ohmygawd..." some gal exclaimed from behind me,  
  
"ican'tbeleivethis!"  
  
[....] Shin sent a general sense of aggrivation and disgust at the   
  
high pitched female voice as he soflty broke off kissing me to look   
  
past me, at the ditzy breeder-wanna-be who'd been assigned to my   
  
independent study tutor, [I shall assume, m'cherie, that this is that   
  
obtuse wench you have expressed such dire contempt for?]  
  
I looked up at those blue eyes, which were hardening with cool disdain  
  
for Stephanie, and the sympathy that passed along the telepathic link  
  
we oft conversed through while we were apart in town...the "off the   
  
record" stuff that helped both of us stay sane...comforted me as Shin  
  
slid an arm around me, [Oy, ye got that right, luv... She be the one  
  
they gave me for mentor for my indi-study in history!]  
  
I turned and looked at her, using a rather childish nickname I'd heard  
  
her sorority galpals use withher, "Can't believe what, Steffie?"  
  
Her blonde head bobbed and artificially azure eyes blinked more than  
  
once as she looked at the pair of us, nearly dropping her diet-espresso  
  
in the process, "ohmygawd... It is you, Staciiiiii"  
  
"Yes, I am here, trying to enjoy a cuppa with my guy, d'ye mind?" I   
  
grumbled at her, stretching my feet onto the booth opposite us as she  
  
eyed the space in the crowded coffee shoppe...  
  
"ididn'tknowyouweredatinganybody!!you'resolucky!!" she gushed,   
  
between guzzling her espresso, "that'ssocool!!!waituntilitell  
  
thegirlsaboutthis!"  
  
Shin quirked a brow, looking at the bubbleheaded grad student,   
  
"So? What's your major, Steffie? In for your M.R.S. degree?"  
  
The girl actually stopped and gawked at Shin, his warm whiskey   
  
voice conveying not-so-gentle condesention as he reached around   
  
and grabbed our stuff, practically calculating the cost of his   
  
Armani, Prada briefcase and London Fog trench..never mind the   
  
Seiko and his tasteful jewelry...  
  
"ohnomastersineducation...." Steffie enthused,"ijustlovelittlekids  
  
andstuff!"  
  
"Well, I don't," I said rather susinctly, knowing Shin and I were   
  
on the same page about that topic, "Can't stand the bloody snot-  
  
dragons, can   
  
ye, Shin?"  
  
He looked at Steffie and then back to me and shivered, "Hell no,   
  
Snow!"  
  
The Tri-Delta girl looked like she'd been rendered in anime all of   
  
a sudden...  
  
Dunno if it was what we were saying about being childfree--or the  
  
fact that Shin and I walked through the table--and her--and left  
  
the Daily Grind arm in arm...and frankly, I didn't care.  
  
Shin and I walked down the street, not minding the closeness required  
  
to share his black brolly and keep out of the rain...I'd deal with  
  
Steffie after we got back from our holiday! 


	12. A Second Lease on Life: Chapter 12

17 March and Luck of the Irish?  
  
A Lear jet to PAnas?  
  
I was not expecting that.  
  
Shin and I hit the City of Lights in time for fashion week.  
  
Now you've gotta understand, that even though I'm a geekgrrl,  
  
I still enjoy my SCA events, costuming and stuff like that...  
  
I actually enjoyed meeting Thierry Mugler and Jean-Paul Gualtier  
  
among others...I still can't believe that I lit into Karl Lagerfield  
  
of House Chanel like that over the disservice he's done that name  
  
and called the trip "fashion"!  
  
Me and my temper...  
  
Could I do better?   
  
He dared me.  
  
And that was mistake #1!  
  
Gimme a sketch pad, a pencil and a couple of hours, and I hope I'd  
  
have done Erte, Madame Schaparelli and Madame Chanel proud.  
  
I have this tendency to be very good at a lot of things, but a true  
  
"master" of none, but I think my biggest problem is the fact that I  
  
can't seem to make up my mind and stick to any one thing, you see.  
  
Shin and I've been talking about this tendency of mine a lot this   
  
week, and he actually asked me what I'd do if money were no object,  
  
if I didn't have to worry about anything...  
  
Would I still pursue technology? Or would I dive head first into my  
  
love of history, art and fashion?  
  
I've always had to struggle with things...especially making ends meet  
  
and all that. Trying to do something that would be useful and lasting,  
  
and garner me a job I didn't hate too much, and paid reasonably well.  
  
I'm not used to the idear of not worrying about where next month's   
  
rent is coming from, or if I can pay the bills on time...  
  
Shin's been bugging me to "let go" of those fears and anxieties as  
  
I don't have to worry about those things any more.   
  
Emma's not going to kick me to the curb, nor is she going to "yell"  
  
at me if I decide to study what'd make me happy...and Shin's not going  
  
to be upset with me if I can't reciprocate all the niceties he gives  
  
me. It just feels so weird to not have to worry about stuff like that.  
  
Guess it's a good thing I've got a patient bloke for m'sweetheart,   
  
who's also more concerned about my well being than how much stuff  
  
costs!  
  
I closed out the entry into my high-end Tungsten T3, and tucked it   
  
away inside my satchel, sensing Shin's presence coming closer to   
  
where I sat near the Pont Neuf on the Rive Gauche, sipping my tea   
  
in a bistro and eating my fill of those marvelous little ham-and-  
  
swiss croissants this place was known for.  
  
We had plans to visit Versailles for the day, and knowing Shin...  
  
and I rather do, I had this "sneaking suspicion" that I was going   
  
to get a very up-close-and-personal tour of a place that'd fascinated   
  
me for a very long time.  
  
It's kinda cool that I can "feel" that soft, blue aura from Shin...  
  
of course, makes it damned tough for him to sneak up on me...but I   
  
"let" him get away with it a lot of the time-just to let him have   
  
some fun, and even things out a bit.  
  
The Beemer motorcycle surprised me, though.  
  
It looked like this was going to turn into more than a little "day   
  
trip" of sorts!  
  
Not like I mind that, or riding. It's a ways out to Versailles, and   
  
what better way to enjoy the scenery and beautiful weather?  
  
Neither one of us were really in the mood to talk on the way there...  
  
it was more like we just wanted to "be"...and enjoy the wind in our  
  
faces, and the beauty of the French countryside in spring...  
  
...and I'm beginning to understand where that old term "Pardon my  
  
French..." came from.   
  
It's got nothing to do with cursing....and everything to do with  
  
how French sounds when spoken by one of us Brits!  
  
I have a pretty good ear for languages, but there's just something  
  
about the Queen's English that subtly colours any other language you  
  
speak...and they don't mind the upper class, Oxford or "BBC" accent  
  
like I've got..that's considered a bit quaint and they appreciate  
  
that you've taken the step to meet them half way!  
  
Counter to what most Americans think, the French are not snobs...they  
  
just happen to resent snobs..like loud, rude American tourists...or  
  
anybody who's loud and rude, for that matter, come to think of it.  
  
I happen to agree with them, so my youth spent over seas with a military  
  
adoptive family didn't hurt me--made me seem "wierd" to all those  
  
Americans, but merely "charmingly eccentric" to the Europeans.  
  
Shin's a very quiet bloke himself, but that might have something to  
  
do with not wanting to be the blustering, domineering sort that his  
  
dad, Sebastian, was..and being raised in a fairly "traditional" Japanese  
  
family, I guess.  
  
I've seen his brand of "quietly forceful", and I'm glad it's never   
  
been directed at me...  
  
He never been anything but kind, caring and considerate of me and to  
  
me, I realise as I watch the gently rolling hills slide by, starting  
  
to green with the spring rains and runoff from the mountains, holding  
  
onto Shin--not becuase I have to, but more like I want to...  
  
Thinking back, I have seen him that way before...like when Charles  
  
tried to regain "control" of Kitty and myself, citing us as "minors"  
  
and all...  
  
My 'new' body may only be 17, but I am older than Shin..or even Emma  
  
and most of Charles' so-called original students!  
  
Thank the Lady that I had him and Emma on my side--and Dr. Stange was  
  
able to confirm it beyond the shadow of a doubt!  
  
Kitty had already asserted herself as an "emancipated minor" in order  
  
to be a the school in the first place, and she chose to be elsewhere,  
  
there was nothing he could do about it!  
  
There is more than enough evidence to shut him down already...but   
  
Emma's got a better idea...kinda like what they've done to Worthington:  
  
hostile takeover.  
  
I'm not sure how I feel about that, but I know it's going to come up  
  
at the quarterly meeting of the Inner Circle...  
  
Shin pulled me back to 'reality' by braking several times in a row as  
  
we approached the visitor parking for Versailles, [Wake up, Snowhead,  
  
we're "here"...]  
  
I know I wasn't the most "together" that he'd seen me, [Huh? Already?]  
  
[Aye, luv,] he teased me, waiting for me to get my numb arse off the  
  
bike so we could walk out the stiffness, [I think you were pretty lost  
  
in thought, or fell asleep on me...you okay, Snow?]  
  
[Yeah...just thinking...and I think I've made my decision on where I   
  
stand as far as Emma's idears for the Institute...] I told him as he  
  
enveloped me in a warm embrace, kind of doing a slow two-step to get  
  
the blood flowing again.  
  
[Where's that?] he inquired, looking down at me with marked curiosity,  
  
though I could sense he already "knew" what my answer was.  
  
[I think the Inner Circle should do something before this turns into  
  
a "reason" for all the mundanes to take up arms and declare mutants  
  
and whatnot a "menace" and threat...] I explained, letting my strange  
  
logic flow over our mindlink, along with the other stuff that'd been  
  
cooking on the back burner.  
  
He nodded to me, holding me close for a long moment...and Shin also  
  
understood my restlessness and frustration with trying to choose what  
  
I wanted to study...I could Feel his thoughts slipping around me like  
  
a soothing cloak of blue velvet.  
  
No matter what I chose, he'd not think the less of me for choosing to  
  
pursue my heart's desire...and what made me happy was history, art and  
  
social science...and so I felt the dark cloud over my mind lift as we  
  
headed up the walkway to meet our tour guide...  
  
I could tackle the sublimnity of Versailles with a light heart, and   
  
revel in its wonders with somebody who would appreciate every nuance  
  
as much as I would... 


	13. A Second Lease on Life: Chapter 13

17 March  
  
We've been looking around Versailles for the better part of the morning,  
  
but I could swear there's something wonky about our tour guide...  
  
I can't put a finger on it, but "she" seems a wee bit too friendly, and  
  
'hovers' a bit too much for mine or Shin's liking.  
  
We broke for lunch, and I insisted that Shin and I "slip away" for a bit,  
  
and between his phasing and my psi-talents, we managed to give her the   
  
slip, and follow her at the same time...  
  
...turns out my suspicions were correct.  
  
No sooner than she thought she was alone, the guide shifted...into a   
  
familiar indigo skinned, oranged haired chick.  
  
Raven Darkholme. Aka Mystique.  
  
I shoulda known my grace period would run out sooner or later.  
  
I came to Paris to spend time with my guy. Not have my first vaccation in  
  
years interrupted by some dodgy shapeshifter with delusions of parenthood.  
  
I don't care IF she's Rogue's foster parent. She's nothing to me, and I'm  
  
certainly not above putting her out of my misery so I can get some peace  
  
and quiet.  
  
Now, I just gotta figure out who she's talking to on the cellphone...German  
  
I think...or maybe Yiddish, knowing my luck...and if what I read at the   
  
Institute is right, Xavier's old nemesis, Erik Lensherr is either Jewish or  
  
gypsy. Dunno which, but that gives me an idear or three to work with...  
  
And what the two of us might be up against.  
  
Blessed Lady! Why does my life have to be continually littered with these  
  
psychos with delusions of grandeur, martyrdom and motherly sacrifice?  
  
I'm half tempted to start melting brains and ask questions later...  
  
Shin was of a mind to simply leave, but I wasn't...I came here to see Paris,  
  
the Louvre, Versailles and all that. I'm not going to let them keep dictating  
  
my life. Period.  
  
And before he could stop me, I pulled us through the wall and tapped her on   
  
the shoulder...after erecting an invisible forcefield around her.  
  
Suffice to say, the look on her face was worth every penny...  
  
So, here I am telepathicly reading her the riot act, and it's taking Shin to   
  
keep me from frying what passes for her brains, when wouldn't you know?  
  
Nick Fury's boys and girls in blue show up.  
  
The slightly guilty look on Shin's face told me all I needed to know...  
  
And y'know what?  
  
In a way I was kinda glad, becuase their timely arrival kept me from doing   
  
something I might regret later...like experimenting with the brain-through-  
  
nose removal described in the Egyptian Book of the Dead, or finding out just  
  
how refined the microkinetic end of my abilities really is these days...or  
  
practicing my Atemi moves at full strength...or learning if my forcefields  
  
are really airtight..or not...  
  
And who's going to believe the reality of me being Rogue? My psi-sig and   
  
DNAnalysis profiles are so far off hers that SHIELD couldn't mistake me for   
  
Rogue, but her sister, yes...  
  
...and being 'with' an upstanding member of the community like Shin, well,  
  
who'm are they going to believe? A lying terrorist--or a known, respected  
  
CEO of a major SHIELD contractor?  
  
So, they got their shapeshifter, and I got my vaccation back...  
  
But, I had the uneasy feeling that it wouldn't be the last I'd see of that  
  
shapeshifter...  
  
Shin rubbed my shoulders while they interviewed us--and I told them the edited  
  
version of the accident...and they got a scan of my genome to add to some   
  
kinda implant Mystique's got...apparently keeps her from taking my form...  
  
Not that that's a bad thing.  
  
This Italian countess stuck around with us after they hauled Darkholme off,  
  
actually turned out to be a hell of a armchair historian, and was quite   
  
familiar with all kinds of neat stuff about Versailles.  
  
She gave me a SHIELD micro-com or 'panic button' should I be harassed by  
  
any more of my sister's looney cohorts...I'm glad, in a way, becuase I'm   
  
not really "up" on metahuman fighting and stuff. I may be good in a   
  
fight, but that doesn't mean I know all the "stuff" or how to keep normal  
  
folks from getting hurt.  
  
Neither does Shin, for that matter.   
  
Some things are best left to the pros, we both think.  
  
And right now, I just want to loose myself in history and poke around the  
  
hallowed halls of Versailles and the Petite Trinon...becuase that's what's  
  
more important to me right now...spending time remembering how to be Ana,  
  
and learning how to be half of this neat yin-yang thang that Shin and I   
  
have going. 


End file.
